Chris stood up unsteadily. With a glance about him at all the miniature copies of his nemesis, he brushed off his trousers to gain himself some more time to get his wits about him. Mission? What’s this fellow going on about a mission for?
"A virus you say?" Chris questioned the little man, choosing to leave off his curiosity about a mission.
"Must I repeat myself again???!?!?!?" the little man jumped up and down, stamping his feet with fury. "Look at them all, wheezing and sniffling. Tell me how to cure them and the gold is yours."
Chris stifled a laugh as he watched the little man work out his pent up emotions. The thought of the gold and its use to help others brought him back to his senses quickly though.
"I’ll need to ask some questions to discover what the problem is," Chris said. "If I don’t get some answers from your friends, well.." with a shrug of helplessness, he looked at the little man.
"Ask ask ask then!" the little man urged Chris on.
Chris thought to himself, now we are getting somewhere! He walked up to the nearest miniature fellow. "How are you feeling?"
"Dreadful..." the creature squeaked, his voice almost like a mouse’s squeak. "My brain is just spinning about and I keep hearing all these other voices.." it stopped talking to cough and sniffle and wheeze for a minute. "And I’m all stuffed up.." the miniature fellow picked up a hanky and blew his tiny nose into it in a rather loud and obnoxious manner.
Chris repeated this with a number of other miniature fellows - they all were the same.
"Do you know which one of your helpers here was the first one to become ill?" Chris turned back to the bigger little man.
"Over here.. over here.." the little man said and scurried off. He didn’t look back to see if Chris was following. Walking briskly, Chris caught up to the little man as he stopped beside a miniature fellow who lay there, wheezing and hardly moving.
"Oh my, you don’t look very well at all." Chris knelt down and put a hand to the miniature helper’s forehead. "You don’t have a fever. What’s ailing you?"
"I’b aw stuved up. I’b cad dalk bewy wed ad I cad eben fink. I’b jus’ wan seep" the helper squeaked weakly. Chris looked at the bigger fellow and whispered:
"What did he just say??"
"He said, "I’m all stuffed up, I can’t talk very well and I can’t even think. I just want to sleep." "
"Hmmm.." Chris stood up and thought hard for a minute. A thought finally hit him and he kneeled down again beside the very sick helper. "Tell me, what were you doing just before you got sick?"
"I’b cad dell oo." The squeak sounded weaker.
"You can’t tell me? Why not?" Chris asked. The little man behind Chris began to look at everything else in the room except Chris. Turning to the little man, he put his hands on his hips. "You’d best tell me what it is your helper was doing to make himself and his fellows sick or I’m never going to be able to help you out."
"Well, um.. " the little man paused. "If I told you it would compromise our mission. And then I would have to kill you."
"What?? Do you think I’m some sort of secret agent?" Chris asked bewildered. "I don’t give a pence for your mission. WE have a deal, I help you and you’ll release the gold to me. That’s all it is."
"Okay, okay." The little man sighed. "I was kidding about having to kill you. But it will still compromise our mission. Tell the man what he wants to know."
"Wed, I’b wad potting a node od de web," the sick helper began. The little man took up with a translation of the sickly squeaks.
"He was posting a note on a web page - a site called "Yahoo Groups: cdeb" and he had to register for it first and he put in his e-mail address.. YOU WHAT???" the little man stopped the sick one’s speech. "Which e-mail address did you use??"
"I’b ude cdeb@cdeb.com"
Chris began to laugh so hard that he bent over double. This set the little man off on another fit of furious foot stamping.
"AND WHAT IS SO FLIM-FLAMMING FUNNY???" the little man yelled. Chris thought that for such a little man he could certainly yell loudly when he wanted too.
"It’s not a virus that your little helpers have come down with at all! It’s all my fans on the internet e-mailing me because they think you’re me! " Chris explained and collapsed on the floor giggling again. The little man stomped up beside Chris and began to kick at Chris’s foot.
"STOP THAT LAUGHING NOW AND TELL ME HOW TO CURE MY HELPERS!!!" the little man ordered.
